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by hakanamu
Summary: Before embracing an overdue death, Itachi thought he had everything covered. But rudely awakened in Konoha beside a ramen poster, he realized there might be one possibility unaccounted for.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** [Insert your favorite]  
**Warning:** Spoilers & wild theories abound…

* * *

**- CHAPTER 1: The Unexpected**** -  
**

.

"Sorry, Sasuke… This is it."

His brother's breath hitched—belatedly warning Itachi of what he had let slip. So, it would seem his fears regarding Susanoo proved valid: what he prepared was insufficient for its most exacting form…

He could have ended the smile then. Indeed, every last shred of his waning logic told him he _should_ have. But perhaps, this was for the best. He was weary… of the path. Could his foolish little brother deduce the truth from this final indiscretion? As a Konoha ninja, Itachi wished otherwise; but as a brother, he wished Sasuke could.

And for once in his life, Itachi truly missed the Sharingan.

Because still reaching forward, he never saw the contact his fingers would have made with Sasuke's forehead.

.

Itachi found himself at the edge of a grisly battlefield, strewn with broken corpses twisted at the oddest angles. The sky, too, was an eerie red; so thick was its ominous hue, one would have almost presumed it was heavily laded with blood.

The sight was not unfamiliar to Itachi. After all, it was his mindscape.

Itachi did not attempt to close his eyes. He knew he never could. Not in this place. Nor could he ignore the effusive smell of iron permeating this illusionary reality—both from rusting weapons scattered across the field, as well as mangled figures to whose grasp they formerly belonged.

Granted, given… sufficient proximity, those corpses should still retain enough discernible features to be identified as the people whose lives he had taken at various time points of his career. At the far left, nearly decomposed, would be his first kill: a Kumo ninja who almost succeeded in mapping the entire layout of military outposts along Hi no Kuni's northeastern border. At the far right, in relatively good condition, would be his most recent: an Ame ninja unfortunate enough to stumble across his infiltration into their village's sealed archive by chance.

And straight ahead would be his most infamous: men, women, and… children of the Uchiha clan.

A murder of crows were feasting gleefully on their rotted remains at the moment, further disfiguring faces frozen with expressions impeccably etched in his memory. Dismay. Disbelief. Dis… Disillusion. United, however, were they in their final accusation of silence.

'_Why have you turned on us?_'

"Peace," his idealistic self would have replied with but a slight hesitation eight years ago.

"Naïveté," Itachi whispered, now, as his feet began to sink into the blood-soaked quagmire underneath—just as they always did when his mind tried to extricate itself from these restless dreams. While it was strange to be subjected to another in his last moments, Itachi suspected he might have simply lost consciousness before Susanoo could completely consume his life.

Indeed, was he not already sinking further into the ground than in previous instances? Perhaps this was his mind's interpretation of death. How ironic, that he should die in his dream just as he had sealed Orochimaru in a lethal slumber.

Itachi was grateful, however, when his limbs were released from their perpetual pain after the earth eagerly swallowed them whole. It was wishful thinking, but he wondered if this small mercy meant his victims had at last forgiven him and absolved him of his terrible deeds.

"**Or you have finally stopped caring.**"

Ignoring the voice, Itachi shook off several tentacles of malevolent chakra that had sprung out of the ground to keep him afloat. He wanted this. He wanted death. He should have already died that night.

"**Yet you didn'****t. You persisted. You survived. It is human nature to avoid death.**"

He had a purpose then. His life had more value.

"**Merely excuses…**"

Any further mockery on his invisible tormentor's part was cut off by a sudden burst of light. But before the blinding rays could completely overtake his vision, Itachi thought he had briefly seen the emergence of an ornate gate…

To a cage.

.

_Tap_.

Itachi was immediately alert.

_Tap_.

Eyes closed, he could still place the sound as one generated by something relatively soft against a glass surface. The solid timbre suggested, among others, a well-fleshed human finger. But were that the case, and given the nearly imperceptible drag ending each tap, the callus on that finger might be of a certain type… A ninja, then.

_Tap_.

More certain now, Itachi silently poised himself for a hostile encounter. His body had most likely been removed from the Uchiha Hideout; it would be the last place where one could find glass—a material too fragile against kunai, and too weak against katon.

But before he could discreetly reach for the waist sash where his shuriken were last kept, Itachi paused. Was he still alive? Or had he entered the elusive afterlife those monks used to preach at the Fire Temple? Certainly, his hearing had mysteriously improved. The searing burn Susanoo had lit in his muscles, let alone the dull numbness his illness usually instilled, was also nowhere to be felt. Indeed, he had not felt this… painless for years.

Did Madara still have a use for him? Itachi was fairly sure the man had withheld information from him. After all, so had he.

So slowly, Itachi opened his eyes. He could claim exhaustion for his inactive Sharingan. While his low stamina was no secret to Madara, it would serve little purpose to let that man learn another of his weaknesses.

…Only to find Hatake Kakashi perched outside a window.

Narrowing his now opened eyes, Itachi admitted to a slight disorientation. True, his physical vision remained a far cry from the crisp sharpness it had been before… that incident, but it was much improved from the complete darkness it should have descended into. He was either alive and caught in an unusually detailed illusion, or Madara had finally begun to sever Sasuke's remaining ties to Konoha.

Discovering a threadbare pillow to be the moist material his sticky face had been resting on, Itachi was more inclined to assume the former.

"Get up." Itachi's confusion grew as words continued to reach his ears with perfect clarity—despite the ostensible thickness of that dusty window pane. He understood them individually well enough, but when they were strung together… "The Fifth wants to see you, Naruto."

"…" Itachi almost blinked. _Naruto?  
_

Kakashi-san gave a small frown when he reserved from further movement. "This is a formal summon."

"…" Nodding with a terseness that belied his uncertainty, Itachi cautiously withdrew his hands from their interlocked position under the damp pillow. They were more tanned than he remembered them, with no trace of the nail polish he had painstakingly painted three days ago. There was also, of all things, light fuzz of blond hair on the back of his pudgier fingers.

Even as his mind began to draw an alarming conclusion from the clues given, Itachi calmly stood up from a bed that he could not recall having ever fallen asleep on—beside a poster depicting the one dish over which Kisame would have thrown a fit, much less let him spot… But looking out the window behind Kakashi-san, Itachi finally felt his throat constricted.

For there, down below, was Konoha.

Beautiful, sunny Konoha. Just as he remembered it. Just as he would have dreamt it.

Just as he should never have a chance to see it again.

"…And it's urgent." His former senpai might have became concerned, for the silver-haired ninja suddenly slid open the window before speaking again. "Naruto, I know we missed Sasuke this time, but something more important has obviously came up."

"Yeah." Itachi replied as _casually_ as he could—after having duly cataloged his changed sight, hearing, clothing, height in relation to Kakashi-san, etc. Perhaps not so surprisingly, his voice also sounded different.

It was still unthinkable, but Itachi was beginning to acknowledge the possibility that one of his plans might have gone wrong. Very, very wrong.

He had taken residence in Uzumaki Naruto's body.

* * *

**A/N**: So this is the pilot chapter written in response to an idea suggested by one reviewer of "Tight Spot". I admit, the lulz of envisioning Itachi dealing with Naruto's recent train of problems & just kicking the ass out of his 'foolish little brother' was the only thing that overcame my hesitation in posting this. After all, it's recycled material & I probably should be trying to finish that Nth draft of ToNR or TS before another spoiler ruins my latest story plan.

Is anyone actually interested in this premise? Feedback appreciated. Feel free to comment on any errors too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** [Insert your favorite]  
**Warning:** Spoilers & wild theories abound…

* * *

**- CHAPTER 2: The Unplanned**** -  
**

.

_Genjutsu_. _Genjitsu_. Illusion… Or reality? Then again, the difference was no more trivial than individual enunciation.

If Kakashi-san already took him to be Uzumaki Naruto, a child ignorant of their world's darkest secrets, then what need had he of persuading the man otherwise? That steady gaze had betrayed no surprise at his lack of expression. Concerned? Perhaps. Alarmed? Not quite… Not yet.

So averting his eyes from the village he had betrayed, Itachi began to walk away.

He almost stumbled.

Step shifted into a stride, Itachi regained balance. Recovery was mildly nostalgic—even if such agility was to be expected of a smaller, healthier body. But having ascertained his proprioception during motion, Itachi proceeded with greater deliberation. His next steps were executed slowly, dragged across the room with audible lethargy.

That was, until he came upon the shadowed pile of clothes.

Lifting the orange outfit into his hands with a measured kick, Itachi did not entirely feign an irritated mumble as the shade continued to persist: "'m down in a sec."

He slammed the door before Kakashi-san could scrutinize him further.

.

Sweeping the roadsides with eyes kept as wide as Naruto-kun would have, Itachi could no longer deny it.

He felt nothing.

There was, of course, the initial shock. Itachi had not expected to set sights on this village again after his brother's defection, and certainly not after his… death. In fact, while he still recognized Konoha with its haphazard skyline and self-assured citizens, while he still recognized those and more—there was nothing beyond that recognition.

Was this the village he had decimated his clan for? The entity against which he would rather hate himself? The entity that had awakened his Susanoo?

But the hatred was gone. So had the anger and disgust. Perhaps, that final offering had taken the last of his humanity. It was undeniable that the same torrential emotions at his last homecoming had failed to materialize this time. Truly, Itachi could not say which unsettled him more: the fact that his hometown felt like a stranger to him, or the possibility that Sasuke would feel the same to him as well.

Only another test would tell.

For now, Itachi bid his time. Konoha had not recovered as well as it would like others to believe, as evidenced by the mismatched painting and the uneven roofing he had seen along these lanes. Amateur jobs, those clearly were—and likely the handiwork of Academy students with next to no mimicry training. Civilian craftsmen might have been preoccupied with the more delicate restoration of the village's commercial districts, as seen on their way here. Ninjas, then, could only have been deployed on the more rugged reconstruction of its safeguards. Such work distribution spoke volumes of Konoha's financial and political predicament.

Hence with the body of this village's only jinchuuriki in his possession, Itachi had to weigh the potential impact of his departure. Konoha might have lost his loyalty, but not his logical inclination. It remained, even after Orochimaru's invasion, the heaviest weight in the power balance between the Five Great Nations. He saw little sense in disturbing that balance; only idealists and madmen could find any gain in such efforts.

And then he saw those toads in front of the Hokage Residence—unnaturally large, colored summon toads. The bigger one looked to be Gamabunta, the Toad Boss.

Jiraiya must have completed his reconnaissance of Akatsuki's Ame base, then; Itachi had not anticipated such a swift return. 'Something more important must have came up', indeed.

Eyebrows lifted, he modulated his tone into one of child-like curiosity: "Huh? What're y'all doing here so early in the morning?"

The smaller, orange toad started to reply in obvious hesitation, "Actually…"

"Gamakichi! Keep your trap shut!" Gamabunta quickly cut off the explanation he could have obtained, although it did name one of Naruto-kun's ostensibly acquainted summons in the process. "Let the boss and Tsunade take care of it!"

With Gamakichi silenced, Itachi reattempted his only other source for explanation. "What's that all about?"

"It's not important." Kakashi-san's words remained guarded. "Let's go."

Narrowing his eyes, Itachi silently slid a few shuriken into position between pocketed fingers.

.

"You!"

Itachi retracted his blade. "A reminder. Next time, I will not show such leniency."

Threat removed from his chest, Danzou's exposed Sharingan slowly receded from its active state. "Why have you chosen Tsunade's side? She would never see the necessity of our actions…"

"I have not." Itachi interjected. Sheathing the tantou onto the back of his borrowed Ne uniform, he continued, "I simply found no one else fitting as the jinchuuriki's guardian."

"So you took over the boy's body instead?" Danzou relaxed into his seat. "This certainly simplifies things. Yondaime's legacy had been far too willful."

…But also oddly charismatic. With his loss, Itachi knew he may have no choice but to eliminate Sasuke himself in the future. "My oath was never renewed. Sandaime-sama died without naming a successor."

Straightening those bandages back to their former position, Danzou wisely avoided the temptation to meet his eyes again. "You executed _that_ order, didn't you?"

"It coincided with my interest." Itachi ignored the bait. "Akatsuki is the enemy—that is our basis of agreement." _No more, no less._

"Very well." Danzou reached for the drawer, notably keeping his motion in clear view as he took out a thick folder. "This is what we have on Uzumaki. You know the drill."

Although he had no fear of traps in his clone form, Itachi still made a show to touch the papers with only his fingernails first. "It will be returned within the hour."

Danzou gave him a crooked smile. "Ever the careful one. With you in control, I trust Kyuubi will not fall into the wrong hands?"

Itachi's reply was a soundless Shunshin.

.

With each passing second, Itachi saw further dissolution of his preliminary assumptions—all with no noticeable influence on his perception. This unexpected reality might not be an illusion.

"A toad geezer?" Outwardly, he tried to latch onto trivialities that Naruto-kun would make a ruckus over. "The hell?"

Inwardly, Itachi consolidated hints that he had gleaned during the past half-hour. The mood in this room had been somber since his entry; Itachi's first assumption had been that he was exposed as this body's usurper. Further observation and analysis of these people's body language, however, had then led him to suspect that his foolish little brother might have gotten himself killed despite a final bequest of power…

It was not until Itachi identified Gamabunta's "boss" as this beard toad, rather than Jiraiya, that he realized that a more significant variable was about to undermine his current set of possibilities.

"Watch your language, Naruto! This is Fukasaku-sama, one of the two great sages of Myoubokuzan. He's came all this way to speak with you…"

As Tsunade's admonishment abated, Itachi could not help but recall the title she had just introduced earlier: _Child of Prophecy_. Yes, that might explain the inconsistencies.

"…More importantly, there seems ta be no doubt that yer Jiraiya-chan's apprentice."

After all, Fukasaku—and for that matter, the entire clan of toad summons—should be able to discern he was _not_ Uzumaki Naruto. His own clone had confirmed that their chakra could feel similar, if only by virtue of their shared ties with Kyuubi; but summon contracts drew on ties far deeper than either blood or chakra.

"Jiraiya-_chan_?" Itachi absentmindedly effected Naruto-kun's exaggerated pitch, even as his mind arrived at the indisputable conclusion: If the toads had not questioned his identity, then there must be something else of greater import at stake to induce this inaction. "_Chan_? Who the hell are you to talk about ero-sennin like he's some kid?"

"…I said watch your language!"

Granted, forceful as Tsunade might come across, she was never seen as the strongest of Konoha's legendary Sannin. Neither her brute strength nor medical prowess could pose an absolute deterrent for hostile nations. Danzou, too, appeared to have became overconfident from those implants; it may be that a tree's roots were better left buried.

"…Haha, that fits Jiraiya to a T!"

It would seem that 'Uzumaki Naruto' was thus the only name left to discourage Konoha's opponents.

"So what do you ol'ass sage wanna do with me anyway?" Itachi made one last effort at Naruto-kun's visibly scrunched version of an annoyed face; if he was correct, then there would soon be no further need.

If this unplanned reality had stemmed from his own mistake, then it behooved him to rectify matters. Naruto-kun's inexplicable disappearance had only reinforced his folly of relying on another.

"Now, where to begin?" Fukasaku paused, eying him with such consideration as to leave little doubt on the validity of his latest hypothesis. "Well, I guess I'll just tell ya…"

_Once again, I am no longer dispensable._

**"Jiraiya-chan was killed in battle."**

At the Great Toad Sage's announcement, Itachi widened his eyes as far as possible—before letting them relax into habitual blankness.

_And once again, I am left with limited options._

Fidgeting as if in indecision while Tsunade's own eyes started to widen at his subtle signals, Itachi finally voiced a seeming confusion in the now deathly silent room:

"Ji…Jiraiya who?"

.

After Tsunade had dismissed everyone, even the ANBU on duty, she turned back to him with a stony face.

"Identify yourself," she hissed ominously. "And just where did you get your filthy hands on Sandaime Hokage's master code?"

* * *

**A/N:** Probably few will like my characterization of Itachi. But it's late, and I'm tired.**  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** [Insert your favorite]  
**Warning:** Spoilers & wild theories abound…

* * *

**- CHAPTER 3: The Unannounced -**

.

Itachi motioned.

"That's not a high-level codename." Crossing her arms, Tsunade appeared unconvinced. "Got a better excuse?"

She didn't know, then. Danzou must have destroyed all records during the one month when Konoha had been left leaderless.

Tugging his lips in effected self-deprecation, Itachi released the film of physical energy from his fingers. Tsunade was too cautious to let her chakra resonate with his; as expected of a… competent ninja. Nevertheless, her trust would be needed for him to cover any misstep with Naruto's acquaintances—and more importantly, to check Danzou's actions.

Without invoking another genjutsu, Itachi gave her the last mission code he had received as an ANBU.

Tsunade's hands tightened in obvious recognition. So, she had been an acknowledged candidate for the Hokage seat.

And Sandaime had been serious about that final offer.

"Impossible," his former leader's successor insisted, but her weak tone indicated a belief otherwise. "Why? Why did you come back? Why now? Why did you pick Na—"

"Not by choice," Itachi finally spoke. Konoha's standard system of hand signals was never meant for complex communication; it had already served its purpose, in any event. "But I felt that you would not have wanted Uzumaki's body to be left unattended… Godaime-sama."

Tsunade frowned again. " You're in his _body_? Then where the hell is Naruto?"

"I do not know." Maintaining eye contact, Itachi continued in a soft voice far removed from Naruto's, "He was already gone when I found this body."

Tsunade thinned her lips, clearly torn between her trust in Sandaime and her distrust of him. Given her undisguised expression, however, he might have gained some ground. "We already have a 'Kage' as the ANBU commander; I won't have a position for you for at least another year."

Itachi almost smiled: she was at least willing to share information. "Consider me a free agent."

He was referring to his relatively independent status. Granted, an ANBU would be also more costly for the village to maintain than a genin. There was only one sensible order that could be given by someone in Tsunade's position.

And it sounded she would. "Uzumaki… Naruto."

Itachi was about to stand at attention when the air shifted. With conscious effort, he impassively let those fingers wound around his neck.

If the momentary widening of her eyes was any indication, Tsunade had not expected his inaction. But soon, those eyes narrowed. "I'm sure Sarutobi-sensei had his reasons; but they'll mean _nothing_ to me if you ever wreck 'your' body before its owner returns."

Itachi did not hide his consideration. Holding her gaze, he asked quietly, "And if he doesn't?"

Her fingers tightened further to be almost painful. "Well, you better make sure he _does_."

"You overestimate the extent of my knowledge," Itachi observed dryly, but not before raising one hand to slip a mildly restrictive thumb into the hollow of her palm. "We have no idea of where he went, no guarantees of when he will return. And yet, Konoha will always need its jinchuuriki; I may have to fight on Uzumaki's behalf if his strength is needed.

"Besides," he then smiled, faintly. "Would you have denied _Naruto_ if he wanted to fight for the village as its ninja… as its next Hokage?"

Itachi could tell Tsunade wanted to object at several points. In the end, though, they both knew Naruto's sway over her too well. "Fine. You will _try_, are we clear?"

He nodded. Itachi suspected their predicament was of his own making—although exactly how, he had yet to deduce. "And you?"

Shaking free of his light hold, Tsunade snorted. "Emotion shock, right? You want the others to believe you had decided to forget everything about Jiraiya."

"Hatake Kakashi too, please." Itachi added as he moved to disperse imprints from his neck with light massaging.

Tsunade gave him a strange look. "You already thought this through, didn't you?"

Noncommittally, he continued, "If you have any pointers on how to mimic Uzumaki's techniques, that would also be appreciated."

She rolled her eyes. "How in the world would I…"

Tsunade suddenly paused.

As her eyes took on an odd glint, Itachi became decidedly wary.

"Tell you what," she actually _grinned_, "Go take a walk. I'll have the perfect setup ready when I summon you again."

...

The others' curiosity was palpable.

Then again, it would be time for the next stage when that curiosity abated. Until then, he was just #49.

"And then we will exit from these routes." Their team leader was winding up the brief. "I will exit from route A as the decoy. Tera, you are to exit from route B with Dajimu."

Tera eyed him, but otherwise remained silent.

He returned the scrutiny, but otherwise only put his borrowed mask back on.

Yes. For now, he was just the 49th root of their Great Tree.

Codename: Dajimu.

...

Brushing off another chuunin who tried to invite him to ramen despite his clearly brooding mood, Itachi finally traced his steps back to Naruto's apartment.

This had been a long day—but it was not done, yet.

Opening the door to a foyer drenched in the orange glow of setting sun, Itachi decided he did spent too much time wandering around the village. He had had enough chakra to create another clone to map out Konoha's current layout; his time could have probably been better spent by fine-tuning his synchronization with this body.

…Except that would completely deplete his store of Naruto's original chakra.

They were not the same person. Their experiences were different. So even with the same body, the chakra they generated were not quite the same. His felt colder, darker… more like a Bijuu.

Of course, having paraded his morose state around Konoha, most people should come to accept this slight discrepancy. There would be doubters, but Tsunade should soon put them at ease. In the meantime, he needed some of this body's original chakra to maintain appearances—just enough for him to exercise chakra control.

He did not have the same level of control as in his own body, but it was sufficient for basic sensing. So even before he stepped into 'his' washroom, Itachi had reflexively tensed.

A _Ne_ ANBU was sleeping on the toilet… in underwear.

Soundlessly, he grabbed a towel and approached his clone's victim. Nudging some of the cloth into the other ninja's hand, Itachi reinforced the genjutsu as he painstakingly guided the unmasked youth into curling up on the floor. Deep in slumber, the ANBU's chakra was easily manipulated. Well-trained, the ANBU easily entered thanatosis.

Itachi dumped a basket of dirty laundry on top for good measure.

Straightening up, Itachi grinned at the mirror.

He adjusted the bent of his eyebrows until the blond in front of him could more easily pass for Uzumaki Naruto on a happier day. Satisfied, he rearranged his facial muscles to recall his earlier expression; the somberness looked decidedly awkward on the boy's face—but not unreasonable given the situation.

Itachi attempted a few more expressions. While his new face was quick to respond with precision, it soon became apparent that his imitations could never quite match their original. Something always felt… missing. Innocence, perhaps? No, that could not be it. Unthinkably positive though he could be, but the genin was no stranger to the darker side of human nature.

Itachi closed his eyes. Did it even matter? Any ninja would be foolish to believe in the existence of a perfect cover. For a long-term mission, the goal would never be to act exactly like the replaced person. Just as the best lies would be half-truths, so would the best covers be modifications of one's own identity.

Ten years ago, he was made a spy. He had felt betrayed, isolated, and completely abandoned by his own family. Back then, he had turned to his fellow ANBU, believing that they could be a replacement…

_Sixteen years ago, he was made a jinchuuriki. When he found out, he had felt betrayed by his hero. All those cold eyes around him felt all the colder. Back then, he had turned to his fellow teammates, believing that they could acknowledge him as a ninja and not a…_

And then Shisui died.

_Jiraiya died._

He had raged in solitude for days. If only he… If…

_He felt disbelief, then anger. If only Tsunade… If…_

But when the rage subsided, he had to acknowledge that the past could not be re-written. What had been done, had been done. All they could change was the future, the next generation. Sasuke became his reason for living. Or rather, he forced it to become his reason.

_Sasuke was…_

Itachi paused. What was Sasuke to Naruto, really? How could the boy still believe his brother could coexist with Konoha, without becoming its enemy?

He hadn't been able to understand the optimism, and still couldn't. If anything, he had simply took Naruto's words in faith—putting his trust, for the first time after Sandaime's death, in another.

…Only for his plan to backfire. Somehow.

With a start, Itachi realized that he had opened his eyes. Looking at the eerily thoughtful blond in front him, he saw those blank eyes. Clear as the sunniest summer sky, but empty. Lifelessly empty.

Hope. That was what Naruto… what _he_ had.

Numbly, Itachi turned his back on the reflection. The real Uzumaki Naruto would never be so weak, but the one he was masquerading as… Surely, no one could blame a fifteen-year-old orphan for getting depressed over his uncle-figure's death?

By the time Itachi returned to the bed on which he had woken up this morning, he had already shut all the windows and lower all the shutters around 'his' apartment. Sitting back against the headboard, he finally began to meditate.

There was one last thing he had to do. The rest, he left it up to others.

...

Between rustling leaves, he saw them.

"Well?"

"Everything went smoothly."

"That's good."

"Itachi's dead; the eyesore is gone. So much for 'Konoha's off-limits.'"

"You've waited long…"

"Had to be for the plan to work…"

Conversation abruptly stopped on the bridge.

He was discovered.

It was the White Zetsu that spoke again: "I think we found _him_ first."

"Indeed," Madara agreed, after a suspicious pause. "But shouldn't you have warned me earlier?"

Sidestepping a stray whiff, he slowly walked out of the woods. "Excuse me, I couldn't help myself."

"My, my. So the Kyuubi jinchuuriki finally learned some manners." Madara started to turn away from the lake. "That's not going to stop me from…"

He gave the surprised pair a few seconds to reconcile his physical appearance to his chakra signature.

"Excuse me," Uchiha Itachi then repeated, smoothly switching into his original voice. "I wasn't aware that I am dead."

* * *

**A/N:** (Edit) Slightly extended as suggested.


End file.
